Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(44)

“Give us one good reason why we should trust you?” Galen asks.

“Because I haven’t given you any reason not to,” Bry snarls.

“Not good enough,” Caz says.

Bry throws his hands in the air, sending me a frustrated look, pleading for help.

“Guys, knock it off. Bry is not our enemy. We’re on the same page, so put your personal feelings aside and engage your brains.” I level them all with a deadly look. I know we don’t fully understand Bry’s motives yet, and we are right to be cautious, but treating him like an archenemy is getting us nowhere. If they continue doing this, they’ll push him firmly into Sinner’s corner, and that won’t benefit anyone.

“You said you have something for us,” Saint says. “Let’s hear it.”

“I planted the cameras in Archer Quinn’s office on Sunday, and it’s already paying dividends.”

“You should have led with that,” Theo suggests.

“I would have if I could’ve gotten a word in edgewise!” Bry snaps.

“Focus!” I bark, glaring at all of them, because they’re pissing me off now. “What have you discovered, Bry?”

“Diego is meeting the mole Saturday night. I have the exact time and location.”

“A breakthrough at last. Thank fuck.” Galen pushes strands of his messy dark hair out of his eyes. He hasn’t been wearing it in his faux hawk lately, either because he’s too lazy to style it, because we’ve been largely holed up alone, or he knows I love it wild and untamed.

“That’s excellent, Bry.” My smile is genuine, and his shoulders relax a smidgeon.

“Why is Diego meeting him and not Archer?” Saint asks.

“I’m guessing Diego has been the contact point all along. Archer is the prez, so he’s the most obvious choice, but maybe he knows Sinner is trying to find out the identity of the rat in his ranks, and he’d assume Archer or the VP is the one doing the meets. Diego is the sergeant at arms, someone Archer trusts, but this isn’t his typical responsibility, so it’s less likely he’s being watched.”

“Makes sense,” Theo agrees.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Galen says. “Because we’re about to find out who it is.”

“And whether they know where that Leydon evidence is,” I add, because that’s the sole reason we want to find him.

“We need another favor,” Saint says. His body language confirms he’s still tense and on guard, and I need to do something about that later.

“What is it?” Bry coolly regards Saint.

“We need to distract Sinner, and a little payback should do the trick. Do you have details of the next Arrows shipment we can slip to him?”

“No, but I’ll get them.”

“Before Friday,” Saint adds, and Bry nods, moving to leave.

“There’s one more thing,” I say, the thought just occurring to me. “Did you ever reach out to Taylor Tamlin?” It had been part of our plan before the bitch tried to kill us.

“I did, but we haven’t met.”

“You should,” I say. “We need you to keep tabs on her.”

Saint nods at me, instantly understanding where I’m going with this.

“I thought you had her handled.” Bry’s gaze jumps between Saint and me.

“We do, but I don’t trust her to stick to it.” I shrug. “Call it a hunch.”

“Okay. I’ll take one for the team.” Bry waggles his brows, fighting a grin.

“Slap her around a bit while you’re at it,” I add, smirking. “And I hope you like the GI Jane look because I gave her a little homegrown haircut as a parting gift.”

Bry chuckles. “I expect nothing less.”

“She’s lucky she’s still fucking breathing,” Caz says.

“I’ll admit I was surprised,” Bry says.

“She’s small fry, and we’ve bigger balls to juggle,” Galen says. “But Lo is right.”

“As usual.” I fix him with a smug look, and he flips me the bird. I laugh, and Bry surveys me curiously. “What?” I ask.

“It’s not often I see you laughing like that. You should do it more.”

Saint snarls, and I slam my lips against his as he opens his mouth to insult Bry, no doubt. I pull away when I feel him relaxing. “Behave,” I whisper into his ear. “And I’ll make it worth your while when we get home.”

“Deal,” he whispers back, sliding his hand under my sweater, placing it on my lower back.

“We done here?” Bry clips out, all good humor gone.

“Yeah. Thanks, Bry.”

“I’ll be in touch before Friday,” he says before stalking off.

_______________

“I HOPED BY agreeing to marry you, you might ease up on the whole caveman routine, but, if anything, you’re getting worse,” I say, whipping my sweater up over my head.

Saint closes the door to the adjoining bedroom, lifting his shirt over his head as he moves toward me. “Don’t you know me at all?” He flashes me a shit-eating grin while popping the button on my jeans.

“I do. That’s the problem, because you’re only going to get ten million times worse.”